Cathy claimed he was subsequently diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder from his prison experience. None of this could be confirmed through records. (Despite signed letters from Gardner, authorizing the release of his complete prison and mental health–treatment records to the author, those state agencies refused to release them, even after a corrections representative personally visited Gardner in 2011 to confirm the authorization. Cathy released at least some of his prison records to the author.)
While in prison, Gardner told Cathy that at times he felt overwhelmed by his own beliefs that people wanted to hurt him, and that he wanted to kill them before they could harm him. He also told her that he was still very angry with his attorney for encouraging him to take the plea deal and with the judge for wrongfully placing him in prison for something he didn’t do.
Still, he was not free from trouble at Avenal. On July 20, 2005, he got into “mutual combat” with another inmate in his housing unit. After interviewing them both, prison officials found Gardner “not guilty.” Neither was seriously hurt, and guards didn’t need to use force to separate them. Asked if he considered his opponent to be an “enemy concern,” Gardner replied, “I don’t even know this guy, but I don’t want him near me.” The two inmates were subsequently housed in different units.
Donna Hale, his high-school friend and coworker from Santa’s Village, wrote him letters with happy stickers on the envelopes, ending her notes with “smile always,” which made him smile, even when he was feeling sorry for himself.
Donna came to visit him in 2000 with Jenni, and told him that Jenni was engaged to be married. Donna insisted that John tell Jenni not to get married because he still loved her. But he didn’t, because he’d already fallen in love with Donna. However, he never mentioned that to Donna, who went off and got married too.
Still, he and Donna stayed in touch. In a letter he wrote her on May 26, 2005, just a few weeks before he was scheduled for release, he said he’d changed in prison: [I have] become a person that I’m not, just from being around the kind of people that are here... . I feel like my attitude toward life is a bad one even though I now believe it is the attitude to get through life. I no longer trust anyone “completely” and believe that I have to look out for myself only. I regret this feeling because to me, it seems selfish but I don’t want people walking all over me anymore.
He wrote that his mom and stepdad were going to help him get back on his feet when he got out, but he was worried that I’m going to get sent back here. Believe it or not, I’ve seen the transcripts of people who did nothing and the parole officer sent them back to prison. They have creative writing skills. It could happen to anyone at anytime. I know this now, look at me. I’m not inocent [sic] of everything in the law, as we know I’m no goodie goodie, but everyone knew I didn’t do this... . I just feel like I lost all faith in everything.
Chapter 15
While John Gardner was in prison, his mother Cathy married her fourth husband, Kevin, earned a master’s in nursing from the University of Phoenix, and started working at Scripps Mercy Hospital in Hillcrest, near downtown San Diego.
Gardner’s father, John Sr., declared bankruptcy in 2002, and moved with his wife Deanna to Texas in 2005, where they lived in a mobile home. Still on disability, John Sr. was no longer able to work.
After Gardner was released from prison on September 26, 2005, Cathy threw her son a big homecoming party. She even sent his estranged and destitute father a plane ticket to San Diego, because he couldn’t afford one. As a result, Gardner was able to spend three days with his dad, neither one knowing this would be the last time they would see each other.
Hoping to help her son reintegrate into society, Cathy spent nearly $10,000 to help him get a car, an apartment in Mira Mesa, and a job working with Dan, her ex, as an electrician at $38.50 an hour. Gardner moved into the Mira Monte Apartments in San Diego with his cousin TJ on October 19, ready to start his new life. (Cathy had served as guardian to TJ and his sister for a few years when they were children, so John and TJ were close after growing up together in the same house.) Gardner stayed in that apartment for two years, until he had to leave on orders of a new parole agent because he was too close to a school.
Gardner had to follow a set menu of parole conditions from which each new parole agent could choose, but initially, the conditions were generally as follows: He was required to undergo narcotics testing and abstain from alcohol. He wasn’t allowed to have any contact with anyone under eighteen without his agent’s approval. He was prohibited from living within half a mile of an elementary school. He was not to date or socialize with anyone who had custody of a minor. He was to have no contact with his victim or her friends or family. He was not allowed to view or have access to any pictures, videos or movies of a sexual nature (specifically pornography or obscene material), children’s games, or toys. He also had to register as a sex offender.
Gardner talked on the phone to Donna, who wasn’t happy in her marriage. They continued to write letters and visit each other occasionally, until Donna left her husband in Nevada and went home to Redlands, California. So, even though he had a curfew and wasn’t supposed to leave town without permission, he drove from San Diego to see her in the middle of the night to give her a hug and a kiss and to tell her how he felt about her.
It was by far the greatest kiss I have ever had, he wrote in a letter in 2010, adding that he stayed the rest of the night and they got donuts the next morning.
While he was working in Ontario, he tried to see her as often as he could. They went bowling, to the movies or out to dinner at Chipotle or Olive Garden, Donna’s favorite restaurant, which became their anniversary spot. She continued to write him letters, talking about her divorce and the terrible financial problems it was causing. A letter dated November 28, 2005, started out: My dearest love. [You are] the sweetest most adorable guy I’ve ever known... . You are my man and I can’t wait to be your wife, she wrote. By December, she was already signing her letters: Donna Gardner, your future wife.
In early February 2006, she told him that she’d loved him for years, and how both of their hearts had been broken, but she would be by his side for the rest of her life: Why ... Because I LOVE YOU. You are my precious man my gift from God.
When Jenni came out to visit, she could see that Gardner and her oldest friend were very happy together, and all “lovey-dovey.”
Looking back from prison in 2010 on this very positive period of his life, Gardner wrote: We were so happy and in love, I didn’t think I could ever ask for anything more.
He and Donna didn’t use protection during sex, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when she told him, “I think I’m pregnant.” They bought a test kit, and after a few minutes of anxious waiting, she cried out his name to join her in the bathroom. She told him it was positive, but he could tell that she was fearful of his reaction.
“I love you,” he said, hugging her.
Her fear turned to joy as the two of them started crying. Gardner was so happy he called everyone he knew with the good news. They read books on parenting to ensure they did everything right. Gardner even sang to Donna’s stomach.
When their twin boys were born on November 17, 2006, Gardner wrote, it was the happiest day of his life. He came out of the delivery room crying, which made their family and friends think something was wrong, until he said his boys were beautiful. When it came time to circumcise his sons, Gardner cautioned, “Not too much.”
He was so excited that he called his father right away. “You have two grandsons,” Gardner bragged.
John Sr. was excited too, repeatedly asking Cathy to send him photos.
“When are you going to be off probation?” Deanna asked. “Why don’t you come out and visit us? You can spend some time with your dad.”
Gardner was planning to visit at some point. He just had to wait until he paid his penance.
Gardner occasionally got frustrated when he couldn’t calm his babies, but he “
held them, played with them, changed their diapers,” Jenni recalled. “The boys were what he wanted. He was good with his boys.”
Donna signed an undated Valentine’s Day card—To our #1 Dad!—for the two boys, whose first names both started with the letter M, so their nicknames were “M&M.” She often dressed them up as different-colored candies. She also sent Gardner a happy second anniversary Hallmark card: For My Partner In Life.
May we live out the rest of our lives loving and holding each other along the way, she wrote. Our love is strong and we’ll make it through anything.
But it was tough not seeing each other that much. Gardner worked long hours, and managed to drop by her place in San Bernardino County sometimes on his way back from work in the Los Angeles area. In his mind, anyway, he wasn’t breaking any parole rules. Usually, she also came down to visit him once a week.
Donna sent Gardner a homemade card for his first Father’s Day in June 2007, a stapled series of color-photocopied snapshots featuring the two of them and their sons. She wrote a headline and caption under each photo, such as WORLD’S MOST PRECIOUS TWIN BOYS, Do we make you proud, PAPA? and under her own photo, WORLD’S MOST LOVING WIFE, You are my one true love, my Hero! The last photo, labeled WORLD’S GREATEST DAD, with three heart-dotted exclamation points, featured Gardner wearing a satisfied grin as he sat with his arms around the boys in his lap, who were each holding a toy.
“We thought he was going to marry this girl, Donna,” Deanna recalled.
When he wasn’t with Donna, Gardner was spending time with his aunt Cynthia, who was living at his apartment in Mira Mesa, taking turns on who would get to sleep on the couch or the bed.
Gardner and Cynthia had always been close. When he was growing up, Cynthia often stayed with Cathy’s family because she wasn’t getting along with Linda. Teenage Cynthia had picked up young John from elementary school and did homework with him. She also hung out with the boy at John Sr.’s gigs and watched the band with him and Cathy. Now, as adults, Cynthia was cooking and cleaning the apartment for her adult nephew, while he was working with his stepfather Dan in L.A., because he had no time to do housework.
“He just wanted to come home, take a shower and get to Donna,” she said.
But Cynthia didn’t mind. He was paying all the rent, and she had time to keep house because she did phone work out of the apartment. Gardner would come up behind her, give her a hug, and say, “Auntie, I love you, but do you not realize that when you do that [cook and clean], people expect that you’re going to do it every time?”
Cynthia had married in 1989. Now divorced, she was living with Gardner, partly to be closer to her kids. Cynthia said she confided in him that she’d had sexual problems with her husband, and had to go through sex therapy because they’d had no intimacy in the marriage for months on end, which had led to the divorce. She also told him about problems she’d been having with a guy named Steve she was dating, because she no longer felt any sexual attraction toward him. One weekend, she was supposed to go see him, but she was doubled over in pain with menstrual cramps, which continued for a whole week.
“Jenn used to have cramps like that,” Gardner told Cynthia, “and you know the only thing that would solve them was sex.”
But Cynthia just wanted to throw up. It hurt so much she had to crawl to get to the bathroom.
“Do you want to hear what I think your problem is?” he asked rhetorically. “Steve is your problem.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Three times it’s happened. Every time the cramps calm down and you go to see Steve, it happens again. Can’t you see the pattern?”
Cynthia started crying, knowing he was right. To her, Gardner always seemed so intuitive. It was as if he had a psychic ability.
“You want to break up with Steve, but you don’t know how,” he said. “You are weak!”
When she got depressed, Cynthia said Gardner tried to cheer her up, sometimes forcing her to watch comedic movies.
“What are you crying about now?” he asked. “Let’s go out. Let’s go to the Jacuzzi. C’mon, get up.”
“No, I’m sad. I’m depressed,” she replied.
“I don’t care. Either you’re going to watch Jim Carrey to cheer your ass up, or you’re going to go to the Jacuzzi.”
Together, they went outside to sit in the hot tub, where he soothed his body aches after a long day working construction. They were in the Jacuzzi one night when she asked why he’d cheated on Jenni—twice—and made her break up with him.
“It’s not my fault,” he said. “She set me up.”
Jenni had told everyone at school how great he was in bed, he said, which made all these other girls throw themselves at him. Asked how many times he cheated on Jenni, he said, “Don’t be mad at me. If I tell you, you’ll hate me forever.”
“Just tell me,” Cynthia said. “As much as I don’t want to know, I want to know.”
“Don’t slug me, but over eighty.”
Cynthia socked him, and he just took it. “I knew you were going to be mad,” he said.
Usually, he called Donna while they were in the Jacuzzi, but in between calls, he regaled Cynthia with wild and explicit sexual stories about people they knew, often involving him. Some of the stories seemed preposterous to Cynthia; it was as if he were trying to shock her.
“You’re such a prude,” he said.
One night, Gardner excitedly set up the bedroom with all kinds of sex lotions and toys he’d bought in anticipation for one of Donna’s visits. Then he and Cynthia went to the hot tub with some Miller Genuine Draft forty-ouncers to pass the time until Donna arrived.
As the hours dragged on, he grew increasingly irritated that Donna was late. When she finally arrived, Gardner told Cynthia to give them twenty or thirty minutes before she came up after them, so they could have some alone time. But by then, Cynthia was feeling dizzy and queasy.
“Are you okay? Do I need to take you up now?” Gardner asked, apparently upset at the inconvenience, but worried just the same.
Another guy, and then another, came out to the hot tub, and Gardner, not wanting either of them to take advantage of his aunt, was still concerned. But Cynthia didn’t want to ruin his night with Donna, so she said she was fine and would stay down by the pool.
“If you don’t come up in fifteen minutes, I’m going to come check on you,” he said before heading up to the apartment.
Feeling disoriented and dizzy, Cynthia figured she’d feel better if she got some fresh air and went to sit on the curb. Then she made her way back upstairs and was sitting outside the front door when John opened it to find her there.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I don’t want to ruin your time,” she said.
“You’ve already ruined my time.”
He brought her inside, put her on the couch and went back into the bedroom to Donna.
Looking back, Cynthia said Gardner often tried to take care of her like this, just as his mother had. “His kindness, his caring, his compassion. He has such a nurturing quality. People don’t even know.”
But he had another side to him as well. He came home from work one night and told Cynthia that he and Donna weren’t getting together. What happened next would be recounted differently by each of them. Like these other stories, this is Cynthia’s version. To her recollection, TJ was not living there at the time. She and her nephew had both been drinking, and Gardner was standing in the hallway, talking to Cynthia, who was relaxing on the couch, when he came out with a crazy question.
“Do you want to have sex?” he asked.
“What? That’s so rude. That’s so disrespectful,” she said, wondering why he would say something like that when he knew that she’d been in sex therapy for being “too rigid” with her husband.
“Oh, just stop. You’re such a prude,” he said, making some other taunting remarks, which Cynthia didn’t want to repeat. She said simply that they hurt her feelings and made her start
crying.
“I’m not trying to be rude,” he said.
Still crying, Cynthia couldn’t tell if he was trying to be nice or if he was making fun of her.
“Do you want to have sex?” he repeated.
He’d been paying her rent for the past three months. Was this how he wanted her to repay him?
“How would you ever live that down?” she asked. “It’ll never go away. Stop talking like that.”
“What are you talking about?” Gardner asked.
Confused, Cynthia felt that he was messing with her head. But after fifteen minutes of this type of conversation, she said, they went into the bedroom, started messing around and ultimately had sex. She acknowledged that he never forced her to do this, but afterward, when he asked if she was okay, she felt as if she’d been emotionally manipulated into doing something she didn’t want to do. So she told him that no, she wasn’t okay.
“Nothing ever happened,” he said matter-of-factly, as if the slate were blank again.
She didn’t really understand how he could ignore reality that way when she felt so sick to her stomach—beyond disgusted.
“How do you ever get past that?” she asked.
“Past what? What happened?” he asked innocently. Then, as if to reinforce the idea that they should both pretend they’d never had sex, he said, “Do you know what I’m talking about?”
After that, they went back to being just roommates, but Cynthia couldn’t forget what had happened. “I was Auntie, a friend, a confidante, and I became a lover.”
A similar scene played out some months later, while Gardner and his cousin TJ were living together in the apartment, and Cynthia was staying there, again alternating between bed, couch and floor. One night, she’d fallen asleep on her spot on the floor when John came over and picked her up.
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